If It Works
by thespringmoon
Summary: The Racer Family receives an invitation to participate in an offshore rally. On the way there, Speed meets someone he's sure will change his life. AUish.


_Hello, dearest public! Welcome to my first ever Speed Racer fic! :D_

_I'm really excited to write this. I have these little things called daydreams that pop up every so often (or rather, all the time) that possess me to write. This story is also a product of my spacing out in my Statistics class. _

_Something to note: This story can technically Alternate Universe, but it was written with both the anime and movie in mind. Really, the only think that makes it AU is the role Trixie's taken. :shrug: Oh, well. I promise it'll be good anyway! :D_

_Thanks for reading,_

_-Spring-san_

**Disclaimer: **There's no way in hell that I own anything that has to do with Speed Racer. Although I do wish I did!

**Prologue- **_**Dear Racer Family**_

"Hot damn, Speed!" Sparky exclaimed as he clicked the button on his stopwatch, reveling in the aforementioned racer's latest success. "You're well on top of it today! That was your best run in the past week! Discovered some kind'a inspiration, or something?"

As the beautifully manufactured Mach 5 ceased running, Speed lifted his headgear off of his damp head with a small smirk. "I wouldn't go that far, Sparky. It was just… a good run!" he said modestly. With his left hand, he slicked his hair back and hoisted himself out of the cockpit of the vehicle. Stretching, he sauntered over to the passenger side of his car and leaned on it lazily. "After all of that, I think I need a break!"

"Don't get too comfortable, boy!" a gruff voice shouted from the distance. Speed and Spark squinted to see Pops stomping over to them. Clutched in his hand was an extremely wrinkled envelope that looked like it, unfortunately, had been in the man's powerful grip for a while. Sparky and Speed felt themselves involuntarily improve their posture with each step Pops took. When he had arrived at the boys, Pops poked Speed roughly in the center of his chest. "You still have a lot of work to do, Speed. Don't think I'll let you slack off!"

"Ouch!" Speed nearly squeaked and rubbed the assaulted part of his body. "What was that for? And a lot of work for what? There aren't any races coming up! You don't think I deserve even a teeny-weeny break, Pops? I've been working my--!"

"Oh, hush! Even if there weren't a race, you'd still need to be in good shape just in case… oh, I don't know…" he trailed off as he waved the violated envelope lightly in the air, "…you were invited to one of the biggest and most prestigious races of this year."

Speed's eyebrow arched incredulously. "You jerkin' my chain here, Pops?"

In an irritated response, Pops whacked Speed over his head with the envelope. "I don't joke about these things!"

His face lighting up immediately, Speed pounced for the invite only to find himself laying on the ground, face-flat at that, moments later. Rolling over, he whined, "Aw, C'mon, Pops! You've got to let me see it sometime!"

"I don't have to show you anything," Pops said, obviously disgruntled. "Besides, this invitation isn't addressed specifically to you. Look."

He wrapped his thick fingers around the edges of the paper tightly, insuring that it couldn't be snatched, and practically shoved it into Speed's face. Sure enough, the letter had "To the Racer Family" printed neatly in its center. Letting an inward growl emerge in the depths of his throat, Speed cursed the fact he couldn't see who had sent it.

"And I suppose," Speed groaned as Sparky assisted him in getting off the ground, "you want everyone to see it at dinner?"

Pops nodded and folded the letter until it was small enough to fit in to the pocket of his greasy jacket. Dusting imaginary dirt off his hands, Pops folded his arms over his puffed out chest. "That's right. Now get your butt back on that track and practice. You're going to need it."

Speed grudgingly walked to the diver's side of the Mach 5 and catapulted himself back in, grabbing the keys and turning them. As the car started, he revved it up by pressing the gas pedal a few times before taking off so fast that Sparky lost his own balance. The mechanic looked up at the proud-but-he's-not-admitting-it-yet father, rubbing his newly throbbing butt. "He's gonna do good. Don't you think so?"

The older man nodded once more before unfolding his arms and walking to the location he had come from. Sparky watched him walk off, shrugging his shoulders and stumbling as he regained his posture. When he finally looked at the track, he saw Speed making better time than he had been doing in his previous run. Letting out a long whistle, Sparky buried his hands in his overall's pockets. With a smirk he turned to find a seat, whispering, "Yeah… He'll do good."

/0/0/

Speed tapped his foot anxiously as he sat at the dinner table. He had been sitting there for a half an hour as it was and still had another fifteen before the table would even be set; twenty-five minutes for the food to have been ready to be eaten. The thumping of his feet under the table had quickly become irritating for the youngest Racer, who sat in the living room with a blaring television, obviously trying to drown out the noise.

"Mom!" he called from the room and barely over the roar of an action cartoon. "Mom, can you PUH-LEEZE make him stop hitting his foot like that!? It's giving me and Chim-Chim a headache!"

Speed could hear an exaggerated sigh from the kitchen before his mother stepped into the dining room, wiping her hands on her apron. "Speed, please."

"Alright," Speed said, leaning on the table as his mother nodded and exited to finish preparing the food. The moment her figure had disappeared and his foot had stopped tapping, the younger boy agreeably turned the television down. Speed smirked and rested his head on his left hand and began to drum on the table with his right.

With an exasperated groan the boy thundered into the dining room with a chimp at his side. "MOM," he shouted despite his closeness to her. "Mom, he's doing it again! Make him go outside or something'!"

"Spritle Racer, you will not order me to do ANYTHING," she chided as she reappeared from the kitchen. She grabbed Spritle's ear and dragged him back into the living room, Chim-Chim following closely at their heels. Speed sat in amusement as a muffled scolding and defensive protests ensued.

"Hey, Speed," a voice addressed him from behind, "what're you smiling at, huh?"

Speed turned to see a greasy Sparky rubbing his hands on a stained towel. His hat was turned backwards as if he couldn't have been bothered to have it in his face, and the shininess of his skin suggested he'd been sweating.

"Nothing," he replied blandly, "but waiting on dinner so Pops can let me see that invitation."

With a chuckle, Sparky collapsed into one of the table's chairs, leaning back in it comfortably and grateful to finally have a chance to sit down. "Maybe you ought'a get yourself a new girlfriend or something. What ever happened to the last one?"

"Robyn? Who knows? I've barely seen her since we broke up."

"And why did you break up with her? She wasn't exactly bad lookin' and she was pretty nice all of the times I had the chance to talk to her."

"Who ever said I was the one who broke up with her?" Speed questioned defensively. "She was the one with the problem! 'Oh, Speed!' " he began to mock her. " 'Why do you insist on racing all the time?' 'Speedy, I never get to see you anymore!' 'Speed, I'm beginning to think you care more about racing than me…' 'This is your last chance, Speed! Don't you dare enter that race! You promised we'd go to the movies!' I mean… c'mon! That movie had only been in the theater for one week! We could have seen it some other time!"

"That's true, but you gotta think about how they feel, I guess," Sparky said. "And you'd have to admit that you spend quite a bit of time at the track."

"Like I have a choice," Speed grumbled. "I don't think I need to practice everyday; Pops does! If I had a choice, I'd--"

"--still practice," the mechanic interrupted with a grin. "And don't give me that face. You know you would. You really oughta get a girl who wouldn't mind your schedule."

"That won't ever happen."

"… You're right."

"Gee, thanks, bud."

"Well, it's true! Haven't all of your relationships ended because you don't know how to manage enough time to practice, race, AND spend time with them?"

"No!"

"Name one girl who didn't break up with you because of that."

"Alyssa was--!" Speed started, but couldn't finish. "Karin said that she--!"

"Exactly! See what I mean? It's always been your fault, hasn't it?"

"What's always been his fault?" a gruff voice asked from behind the two. They looked to the entrance of the dinner room to see Pops walking into the dining room. Examining his father's figure, Speed was able to quickly spot the letter that he coveted in his fathers firm grip. "Stop staring and answer the question, Speed."

"Don't you think, Pops," Sparky started, his grin still plastered on his face, "that the reason Speed can't seem to keep a girlfriend is because of his racing schedule?"

Pops frowned and crossed his arms. "I sure do, but it's always been for the better."

"How so?" Speed asked with narrowed eyes. "How am I ever going to get married if I can't even get a girlfriend?!"

"First of all, you're a little too young to be thinking about marriage. Secondly, you don't need any girls distracting you. I let you race against my better judgment, and the last thing you need is blow of practices all because some girl pressures you into doing so."

"I've NEVER missed a SINGLE practice," Speed groaned as he laid his forehead on the cold table.

"Damn right you haven't! As long as you do well at the track--!"

"Dinner's ready, boys!" Mom Racer called from the kitchen as the sound of clean plates clacked against the marble countertops. "Wash up so we can eat!"

The three men looked at each other before Speed bolted up from his chair and dashed up the stairs.

Sparky laughed to himself as he rose leisurely from his own chair. "Typical Speed."

/0/0/

"Speed, you've hardly touched anything on your plate," Mom Racer remarked worriedly. "Are you feeling alright? You aren't sick, are you?"

"No, Mom," Speed replied, poking at his food with a fork. "I'm just a little too excited."

"For what?"

"Pops has an invitation and he said I can't see it until after dinner," he said looking up at his mother with puppy dog eyes that caused her to melt instantly.

"Oh! Go ahead and show it to him!" she said quickly, nudging her husband in his ribs. "He can hardly stand it right now!"

"Fine, fine! Stop! You're going to end up bruising me!" he said scooting away from her slightly, and reaching for the letter that sat in front of him in the middle of the dinner table. He opened the envelope and extracted an translucent emerald piece of parchment. Speed leaned forward with an intensity in his eyes that generally only showed when something to do with racing was taking place. "I'll just read it off, since it's addressed to all of us."

"Whoa! All of us?" Spritle asked excitedly.

"Yeah. Now, pipe down so he can read it," Speed said.

"Alright," he started, clearing his throat slightly. "_Dear Racer Family, _it says, _the WRL would like to present you with the rare opportunity to participate in a recently established cross-country rally. Only thirty racers have been chosen to attend, but this race is expected to draw a great deal of media, sponsor, and audience attention. _

"_If you are able and willing to attend, you must be at the Port of Marianna on Saturday, May 30__th__ at ten o'clock a.m. A luxury ship has been provided to transport the racers and important guests to the rally's location, which is a remote island, not too far off shore. Vehicles will be kept under tight security and ferried over separately. It is not required, but you may want to consider including formal attire with casual wear, as a dinner will take place the night the ship leaves. _

"_Thank you, the WRL."_

Speed smiled so wide that almost all his pearly teeth we visible. "Please tell me that we're going, Pops!"

The patriarch scratched the back of his head wearily. "I don't like the sound of the sponsors."

"Aw, who cares about them, Pops? I don't!"

"You know Speed doesn't have an interest in those sponsors," Mom said grabbing the paper from Pops and scanning it quickly. "I think we should go."

"You just want to go for the cruise ship…" he nearly mumbled.

"What's so wrong with that?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing… it's just…"

"What?"

They sat in silence for a moment while Pops massaged the temples of his forehead. Sparky took a bite of his food, know the decision coming was imminent.

"Oh, alright…" Pops finally said with a sigh. "We'll go."

"YES!" Spritle celebrated, turning to Chim-Chim.

Speed leaned back in his seat, the smile still tainting his features as he felt his heart rate hasten and threaten to break his ribcage. "Thanks, Pops."

"Yeah, yeah," his father grumbled. "Now finish your food."

/0/0/

_Thanks again for reading! I'll be putting Chapter one out soon! Catcha on the flipside! :]_

_Next:_ **Chapter One- **_**Starstruck**_


End file.
